


Reconciliation

by Rachello344



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bickering, Getting Back Together, M/M, Old Married Couple, Secretly Married, Snark, Time Lord Telepathy (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29185431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachello344/pseuds/Rachello344
Summary: Set roughly after the Year That Never Was (assuming Lucy never shot the Master).The Doctor and the Master have been married for countless regenerations, but the Doctor has never owned up to it until now.  No one quite understands the bond between the two Timelords, but the Doctor doesn't expect them to.  The only one who needs to understand is the one person who always has.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> I went with Theta and Koschei for their true names for ease of reference. If we ever learn the actual names (? or are these their secret true names?), let me know, and I'll adjust accordingly haha
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! I've been bored at work and just whipping out whatever comes to mind. (Full disclosure, I stopped watching the show after Smith, and Eccleston and Tennant are the main draw for me. Especially once we threw in the Master! *heart eyes*)
> 
> I'm working on a lot of random projects while I figure some stuff out for my Steter fic, so as always thanks for your patience, and I hope you guys enjoy!

“Please, come with me,” the Doctor said, and he tried his level best to ignore the shock and confusion and disapproval he could feel from behind him. 

_After everything_ , they accused. _You would accept him after what he did to us?_

The Doctor kept his eyes forward, kept them locked with the Master’s. For his part, the Master seemed somewhere between conflicted and amused. After so many times refusing the Master’s hand, here he was, offering his own. Here he was _asking nicely._

“No.” The Master’s smile was adoring and cruel. The Doctor felt it like a chokehold. “No, I won’t.” He tilted his head, wondering and childish. “Do they know, Doctor? About us? Do they know what I am to you, and you to me?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, an empty façade, and the Doctor’s stomach churned with guilt and longing. 

The Doctor let his silence speak for him, unable to force the words out. _No. No, I never told them. They don’t know, and I don’t want them to know. If they knew, they would surely leave and never look back._

The Master’s laugh made his stomach flip. Even in madness, the sway he held was immeasurable. The Doctor clenched one hand at his side, fighting the urge to reach out, catch him, _keep_ him. 

“Well, we mustn’t keep them in _suspense_ , Doctor! Wouldn’t that be cruel?” His eyes burned like a supernova, and the Doctor was caught in that inescapable gravity well, unable to even dream of escaping. 

“He’s my husband,” the Doctor said before the Master could. “Estranged, now, clearly.” 

“Clearly, he says!” The Master laughed again. “Oh, that is _rich_ , that is. I spend centuries chasing you across the universe while you fool around with your human _pets_ , and you want to call us estranged? Even while asking me to _take you back_ after I stopped trying?” 

The Doctor scoffed. “Stopped trying? Please, as if you ever could. Even this, you’re doing it to punish me; we both knew that the moment you first monologued about this great scheme of yours.” The Doctor paced forward. “This brilliant mind of yours, Master, wasted on petty foolishness! Do you know what you could do? What you could _be_? If you’d just _meet me in the bloody middle?_ ” 

The Master looked up at him, and his smile was warm and smug. The Doctor could feel his body heat, could smell the tantalizing scent of _his_ Timelord. His fingers itched to curl around his wrist, his waist, the back of his neck, but he restrained himself. 

“Oh, Doctor, you can be such a romantic when you want to be.” 

“Doctor,” Martha’s voice was firm, but uncertain. “Would you really… After what he’s done to the earth? To my family? To Jack?” Her voice trailed off, until her final words came at a whisper. “To me?” 

The Doctor closed his eyes. This was always the hardest thing about humans. They were all so young and so gentle. They never understood him, not like this. Not like the Master could. His mind was a siren song at the edge of his consciousness, certain to drive him to madness if he listened for even a moment. 

“I would,” he said, unwilling to face them. He couldn’t say more. He didn’t know how. 

“They are sweet, aren’t they?” the Master cooed. “Maybe if they lived more than a paltry eighty years, they might be worth keeping around, eh, Doctor? But we’ll outlive them all. Well, maybe aside from the freak. Not that he’s a fit companion.” The Master gave an exaggerated shudder. “Disgusting to look at, living paradoxes are.” 

“Let go of me, Martha. I’m gonna kill him! I don’t know how many lives a Timelord has, but I’m willing to find out!” 

The Doctor winced. “Have you punished me enough, Master?” he asked, voice pitched low. “Can’t we continue this somewhere else?” 

“You’ve never shied from an audience before, Doctor.” 

“Don’t.” The Doctor frowned down at him. “Just, answer the question. Will you come with me? I’m not asking forever. I’m asking an hour, that’s all. I’ll take you somewhere else, anywhere else.” 

“You’re going to _let him go_?” Jack demanded. 

Finally, the Doctor forced himself to turn around. He didn’t know what his expression looked like, but Martha and Jack both looked stunned. And Martha looked devastated. He took them both in, the betrayal, the hurt, the confusion, and he memorized it, in case he never got to see them again. 

“That’s what you do, Jack.” He attempted a rueful grin, but he was sure it fell short. “You let them go, and you hope one day they’ll come back to you.” 

Jack’s expression mirrored Martha’s. 

“I’m sorry, but on this, you won’t change my mind. This is… bigger than anything else,” he admitted. 

Martha frowned. “Rose didn’t know.” 

“No,” he agreed. “I thought he was dead. Gone with the rest of them. I never expected… I never even _hoped_ …” 

“Hoped!” Jack ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Doctor, this is unbelievable. You do realize that, don’t you?” 

“I do.” He scratched at the back of his head. “It’s why I tend not to have this conversation if I can help it. Some companions never meet him, and others only meet him briefly… You’re the unlucky two to learn the truth of us.” 

“Look,” Martha said slowly. “I’m a child of divorce. And you say you’re estranged, but…” She shook her head. “After everything on the Valiant, my parents reconciled. Did I tell you that? They’re giving it another go.” 

The Doctor struggled to make sense of the subject change. 

Martha’s smile was sad. “You remind me of them from before. Mum still loved him, you know. Even when he got his new girlfriend we all hated. And Dad was really only dating her to spite Mum anyway.” 

“Martha, you don’t actually mean—” Jack cut in, but Martha pressed on. 

“You should figure your relationship out. Stop dragging the rest of us into it when it’s nothing to do with us.” Martha closed the distance between them, ignoring the Master just behind him. She popped up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Something plastic pressed into his hand. “Take this. If it rings, you answer. Got it?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” the Doctor agreed. 

“You know, I’m glad. It’s a lot easier to leave knowing I would always be the other woman.” She scrubbed at her cheeks. The Doctor pretended not to notice. “Come on, Jack. Buy me a drink.” 

Jack watched her go in surprise, but turned and sketched a sharp salute. “It’s been an honor. Even after this,” he nodded at the Master. “You bring him round when you visit, and I won’t be held responsible for my actions. You’ve been warned.” 

The Doctor tapped two fingers to his temple in acknowledgement, and smiled to see him follow Martha, shouting out questions about whether or not they were going on a date. 

The Master scoffed. “Well, I suppose I always expected Saint Martha to be a buzzkill. She loves you, you know.” 

“I know. She’ll find someone better.” 

“Who’s Rose?” 

“Someone I hope you’ll never meet.” 

“You really did miss me, then?” 

The Doctor turned, and whatever his face looked like, some tension left the Master’s shoulders. “When I met Professor Yana, all I could think was, ‘Let me pretend, just a moment more. Let me have my Master back, the Master I knew before the madness and the violence, the brilliant and incredible man I fell in love with.’” There was only a breath of space between them, and even that was too much. “Learning it was really you…” 

The Doctor lowered his head, waiting until the Master leaned closer, bumping their foreheads together. The rush of psychic contact was blissful. _Too long, it’s been too long_ , and he felt the thought echo back at him, a four-beat drum thrumming behind it. 

The Doctor thought of that first realization, the shock and relief and pain and loss and love and fear all crashing through him like a riptide set on dragging him out to sea. _Missed you, every day I felt the loss, and every day I knew it would never mend_. 

The Master sighed. _Mine, always mine, no one else can have you, never. Knew I was missing something, someone. The Professor never married, never_ wanted _to marry, always so sure someone was out there waiting for him_. 

And then they were kissing, mouths slotting together with barely a thought, thoughts washing together until they were all a blur. _Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me_. Clutching at the Master’s hip with one hand and the back of his head with the other, the Doctor wasn’t sure whose the thought was. 

He wasn’t sure it mattered.

“You bastard,” the Master breathed. “You’re playing dirty.” 

The Doctor let himself smile, leaning back in. _I’m yours, Koschei. Don’t you know that? I’ve always been yours. That used to scare me._

“Manipulative,” the Master accused. _You’re cheating, Theta._

The Doctor shivered down to his toes. No one else could ever call him that. No one could know the truth of him. No one but the Master. “I learned from the best.” 

“How did it feel?” the Master sighed against his lips. _How did it really feel? Just between us. All that destruction, all that devastation._

The Doctor’s grip tightened. His hearts pounded. “You know how it felt.” _The awesome power, the sick thrill of total and absolute control. You know exactly how that feels._

“Yes, but you always deny it.” The Master’s voice was pleased and low. Seductive. _You always deny_ yourself _. We aren’t human, Theta. Sometimes, I think you forget that._

“I’ve never forgotten,” the Doctor corrected. “But I want to, sometimes.” 

_Such a waste. The old laws no longer apply. We could do anything we ever wanted now. We can change anything. We can change_ everything _._

The Doctor shook his head. _There is a difference between can and should._

“Such a spoilsport,” the Master purred. “I’ll wear you down eventually.” _I’ll have plenty of time for it. Plenty of opportunity._

The Doctor pulled back to look a him. “Do you really mean that?” _You’ll come with me?_

“I do, so long as you make it worth my while.” The wicked smirk sent a thrill through the Doctor. He could feel the promise of it settle deeper than his bones. 

The Doctor pulled him back into a firm kiss, but pulled away before it could deepen, dragging the Master away, hand in hand. “There’s so much I want to see with you! Where would you like to start? I was thinking about a stop over by Alpha Centauri, maybe. Or would you rather see Pluto’s last great empire?” He pushed open the TARDIS door, heedless of the thrum of displeasure when the Master stepped inside. 

“Doctor, your TARDIS is cross with you.” 

The Doctor stopped at the console, frowning between it and the Master. “What? Whatever for?” 

The Master raised his eyebrows. “You don’t need to play dumb with me, Doctor.” 

“She’ll come around eventually, won’t you, old girl? Seeing as he’s my husband and all?” The Doctor stroked the console, beseeching. 

The console beeped, irritation buzzing across his mind. 

“I know, dear, I know. He was very cruel to you, I know. And he’ll never do it again.” The Doctor smiled winningly at the Master. “If you want any hot water or edible food this millennium, you’d best mean it when you promise.” 

The Master heaved a beleaguered sigh. “I swear, I’ll never cannibalize you again. And to sweeten the pot, I’ll make sure you’re piloted correctly, instead of being tossed about by this reckless idiot.” 

Something else seemed to pass between the TARDIS and the Master, but the Doctor wasn’t privy to it. The TARDIS settled under his hands, humming softly, acceptance clear in the way her lights all flicked up to their usual levels. 

“I’m not that bad a pilot, am I?” 

The Master flipped a few switches, and they set off without a sound. The TARDIS hummed contentedly, and nothing shook or rattled. The Master pulled a lever. The TARDIS shifted into a stable orbit, something lazy and smooth. 

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Now then, show me to my rooms.” The Master draped himself along the Doctor’s chest. “Or we can start with yours. I want to learn your new body, husband mine. It’s been quite a while since our relationship was… _consummated_.” 

The Doctor flushed, but he couldn’t suppress his grin. “It has been, hasn’t it?” He took the Master’s hand again and tugged him down the hall. “I never have, you know. In this body, I mean.” 

“Well now,” the Master leered. “What are we waiting for?” 

_You_ , the Doctor thought fondly, _I was waiting for you_. 


End file.
